The Book of Scottish Song/Sanct Mungo

Sanct Mungo.

[Alex. Rodger.]

Sanct Mungo wals ane famous sanct,
And ane cantye carle wals hee,
He drank o' ye Molendinar burne,
Quhan bettere hee culdna prie!

Zit quhan he could gotte stronger cheere,
He neuer wals wattere drye,
Butte dranke o' ye streame o' ye wimpland worme,
And loot ye borne rynne bye.

Sanct Mungo wals ane merrye sanct,
And merryle hee sang;
Quhaneuer hee liltit uppe hys sprynge,
Ye very Firre Parke rang;
Butte thoch hee weele culd lilt and synge,
And mak' sweet melodye,
He chauntit aye ye bauldest straynes,
Quhan prymed wi' barlye-bree.

Sanct Mungo wals ane godlye sanct,
Farre-famed for godlye deedis,
And grete delyte hee daylye took
Inn countynge owre hys beadis,
Zit I, Sanct Mungo's youngeste sonne,
Can count als welle als hee;
Butte ye beadis quilk I like best to count
Are ye beadis o' barlye-bree.

Sanct Mungo wals ane jolly sanct:—
Sae weele hee lykit gude zil,
Thatte quhyles hee staynede hys quhyte vesture,
Wi' dribblands o' ye still;
Butte I, his maist unwordye sonne,
Haue gane als farre als hee,
For ance I tynde my gamiente skirtis,
Throuch lufe o' barlye-bree.

---